This is my chosen place to write—it is close to my heart: my trust muscle
I sit at the convergence of two rivers and marvel at the magic of the water’s constant motion—maybe this is a metaphor
I seek energy from the intricate swirls of wood composing the wharf like so many fractals
I seek insight from the water—a sense of longevity and purpose
I have come to accept a few growing truths
I have navigated the hurricane of manic depression and substance abuse over the past 17 years
I have lost people—lost relationships
comrades and friends I considered chosen family have erected harsh boundaries that felt cruel and frigid
But as a wise mentor shared with me, there are reasons why people enter our lives and reasons why they leave
I have come to accept the depth of this insight
I have let go of the self-centered assumption that all these people owed me something
and I have learned to value the compact character of my circle of close commitments
So my lacerated trust muscle rebuilds its strength
I expand its capacity by striking a balance between empathy—vicarious introspection—and clear intentional boundaries
I have been bruised in my efforts to support other young black men struggling with mental health and substance use—I feel used, betrayed, violated, and bitter
But I must accept that I played a role in creating this drama through naive enabling
I must accept this and forgive—but that does not mean opening my door or answering my phone at 2 am
I see light reverberating across the water in conduits of silver
I feel my heart—my trust muscle—conjuring a sacred robe of violet velvet
My trust muscle draws strength from these convergent rivers—it grows and builds its fortifications
guided by my higher power, I craft the scaffolding of the life I envision–rooted in the strengths of the life I have built
Images are by @MiamiLux_ on IG or twitter
–BYPO PHOENIX c)2021
